Pulse
by Invisionary
Summary: CordeliaWillowXander sorta. The events of Becoming unfolded a little differently, leading them here.


_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Xander isn't sure when he fell in love with Willow.

Maybe it was the first time he saw her, the shy little girl with Snoopy overalls who shuffled her feet nervously when he said hello. Maybe it was the first time he came to school after a particularly bad night with his parents, and during recess she'd taken him behind the building where no one could see, and held him and comforted him while he clung to her desperately. Maybe it was the first time he'd seen her standing her ground when faced by vampires, even though she'd later confessed to him that she was so scared she thought her knees would give way.

But regardless of when he'd fallen in love with her he, fool that he was, hadn't realized it until just a few months ago. He'd been sitting by her hospital bed, staring down at her - _so pale, so fragile_ - and he'd just started talking. The words had tumbled out before he could stop them, but he _knew_ in his heart that they were true, and some small part of him hoped against hope that she'd _hear _them somehow and _wake up..._.

But as the seconds ticked by, his hope slowly drained away. He'd sighed, and slumped in his chair. This wasn't a fairy tale, and he sure as hell wasn't a handsome prince.

And she hadn't woken up.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

On the other hand, Xander knows exactly when he fell in love with Cordelia.

Upon learning about Willow's prospects for awakening, and Buffy's disappearance, Cordelia had cancelled her planned trip to Mexico. He'd tried to tell her she didn't have to stay, but she'd have none of it, telling him gently but firmly that she wasn't going anywhere.

As the days turned into weeks with no change in Willow's condition, Xander grew ever more despondent. As much as he tried to hide it from everyone else, including Cordelia, it became increasingly difficult as the days rolled on. The thought that he might never hear Willow's voice again, or see her smile... it was almost too much to bear.

Finally, one evening when they were both sitting with her, he hadn't been able to keep it inside any longer. Cordelia had turned to ask him something, and stopped when she saw the tears running down his face. She'd wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him to her, and even though he was scared, so scared - _are you crying, boy? _- he couldn't hold back anymore. He sobbed weeks' worth of sorrow, frustration, and despair into her shoulder as she held him and whispered into his ear.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes, he'd slowly pulled away from her. He raised his eyes to look at her face, expecting to find... he wasn't even sure what. But in Cordelia's eyes, he'd seen nothing but warmth and compassion.

At that moment, Xander knew that he loved her just as much as he loved Willow.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Xander and Cordelia visit Willow every day.

At first, they had company. Giles and Oz came with them, and they all took turns talking to her. They'd tell her what a beautiful summer it was turning out to be, and how much fun they were going to have when she woke up, which was going to happen really soon, and if the cheerfulness was forced, well, there was no way she could tell, right?

As time went on, though, Giles became more and more obsessed with finding Buffy, and his visits became more and more sporadic as he followed up on leads that took him out of Sunnydale. And Oz...

One day Oz was just... gone. Xander wanted to get angry with him for leaving, but he just couldn't. He'd seen him, seen the hope draining away with each day that passed. He knew that seeing Willow like this was killing him.

He feels the same way.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

So now it's just them.

They've fallen into a sort of routine. Xander and Cordelia come visit Willow in the afternoon and stay until the nurses chase them out in the evening. They're on a first-name basis with most of them now.

Xander pulls his chair up next to Willow's bed, and Cordelia sits down beside him. His right hand takes Willow's, Cordelia holding his left, and they sit together.

He talks to her – the doctors told him a long time ago that it's good to talk to her. He talks about everything from childhood memories to what happened earlier that week. He talks about all the things he's going to show her when – _when, not if, never if _– she wakes up. He does his best to keep the sadness out of his voice, but it slips through occasionally, and Cordelia gives his hand a comforting squeeze, reminding him that she's there.

It helps. It really does.

After a while, they'll switch places, and Cordelia will take her turn talking to Willow. She usually talks about clothes, movies, music, TV. It all sounds so shallow on the surface, but when he listens, Xander can always tell that she's thinking about Willow the whole time. I saw an outfit today that _you'd _look really good in. _You'd _love this new CD I just bought.

And then there was that day a few weeks ago.

Xander had gotten up to use the restroom, and when he got back, he saw Cordelia leaning in close to Willow. She hadn't heard him come in, and he stood in the doorway and watched as she gently brushed a stray strand of hair out of Willow's face. "Please, Willow," she murmured, just loudly enough that Xander could hear. "We love you, and we miss you. Please come back to us."

He'd stepped into the room then, and as Cordelia turned and stood up, he'd crossed over to her and wordlessly pulled her into a hug.

They stood together like that for a long time.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

And then there are the quiet times.

Sometimes, Xander gets too choked up to speak. Or he just runs out of things to say. Sometimes that happens to Cordelia at the same time, so they'll just sit there in silence, the incessant beeping of Willow's heart monitor providing the only sound in the room.

Those times are the hardest. When he's talking, or when Cordelia's talking, Xander has something else to focus on. But when it's quiet, there's nothing to distract him from his thoughts, his fears. All he can do is watch her, lying there, knowing there's nothing he can do. Cordelia's always by his side, never once complaining, never once saying she'd rather be somewhere else, but still...

It's hard. He can't remember anything ever in his life that was this hard.

So at times like that, Xander comforts himself with a fantasy. He can see it all so clearly. He's sitting, holding Willow's hand, when suddenly he feels her finger twitch. His heart leaps to his throat, and it's all he can do not to jump out of his chair with joy when her eyes flutter open. She looks around, confused, before fixing him and Cordelia with a rheumy gaze and croaking out their names.

And then he's thrown his arms around her, and he's hugging her – _carefully, not too tight _– and Cordelia's there, holding them both, and it's perfect, she's never going away again, and it's absolutely the happiest day of his life.

But that's just a dream.

Still, dreams come true sometimes, don't they?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Twitch._


End file.
